Power Puff Girls Z
by Rentboy
Summary: Bubbles, Blossom, and Buttercup are all grown up and getting close to high school graduation. They've almost successfully navigated adolescence, but Buttercup has become aggressive with the school's bullies. While her counselor tries to fix Buttercup's anger issues, The Professor must figure out an even bigger problem; the girls' powers are diminishing!
1. Chapter 1

Blossom and Bubble cringed at the mess Buttercup had gotten herself into.

"Can ya'll let up?" Buttercup asked the teachers holding her back. "You hold students back from fighting. For this to be a fight my 'opponent' would have to attacking back. But he's cowering on the ground instead."

"That's because you knocked him out!" The teacher on Buttercup's right arm responded loudly.

"Secondly," Buttercup ignored the teacher, "Do ya'll think you can even hold me back? I kinda have super powers."

The teachers both looked at each other before dropping from Buttercup's arms. They both backed up immediately. Buttercup returned to her seat by her sisters at the cafeteria table.

"Go ahead and write my detention. I'll be there bright and early." Buttercup smile. Blossom almost thought Buttercup enjoyed the trouble and attention she got from fighting. Ever since senior year started Buttercup was getting scolded, written up, or even suspended for knocking some poor jerk's teeth out, sometimes figuratively, sometimes not. Buttercup was lucky her status as a superhero kept her out of jail.

The teachers both left red notes on the table and walked away.

"One detention, as expected," Buttercup announced. "And one appointment with my counselor, as also expected." Buttercup groaned.

"If you don't like seeing Mrs. Jackobs, why don't you stop getting in trouble?" Bubbles asked.

"Seeing my counselor is a small price to pay for justice." Buttercup said arrogantly.

"Do you really think giving these kids concussions is justice?" Blossom snapped.

"Buttercup, I get you want to stop the bullies, but your busting heads hasn't even lowered the number of offenders. In fact, more and more students are becoming bullies just to get their five seconds of fame for fighting you!"

"If they're gonna go out of their way to fight me, they could at least put up a _good_ fight." Buttercup sipped on the last of her milk before slipping away back to class.

"You don't think Buttercup is just seeking attention, do you?" Bubbles asked.

"I don't know why she would. She gets attention from the media every time we send another criminal to jail." Blossom scratched her head.

Buttercup snuck out of the school before anyone could force her into "after school counseling." Buttercup figured that since Mrs. Jackobs had detention duty the next day, she'd just knock the counseling and detention out in the same morning. Besides, she didn't have time for all that, she had an essay to write. Damn essays, Buttercup tried to enjoy writing, but she hated that she was _forced_ to do it. Maybe Mrs. Jackobs was right, maybe Buttercup did have issues with authority. Buttercup didn't want to think about any of that. She rubbed her temples, the poor girl had a splitting headache at least once a week now. She thought maybe caffeine would help, so she took the back street home, there was a good coffee shop that way.

"Welcome to Java-Jams, how may I he- Oh! Buttercup! Feel free to have whatever you want, on the house." The cashier yelled.

The rest of the shop stared into the teenage girl like she was a celebrity.

"Thanks, but I'll pay." Buttercup insisted.

"No, no, after you saved us from that huge lizard last week-"

"I was just doing my job as an able-bodied citizen." Buttercup's shoulder still hurt from that lizard attack. Her right shoulder was dislocated during the fight, she usually healed in only two or three days. It had been a full week now and her shoulder was still hurting.

"It's alright-"

"No! I said I'd pay, damn it!" Buttercup was getting tired of the stares. Her headache was getting worse and she was facing another problem she wasn't use to; fatigue. Ever since junior year, Buttercup had gotten tired after school.

The rest of the shop turned away.

"I'm, I'm sorry. Look, I just wanna regular black coffee. Medium please." Buttercup's headache was not ringing through her entire head.

After the man handed her the cup, Buttercup shook on her way to the table.

She got only halfway through her cup when someone yelled for help.

Buttercup speed out of the shop before the customers could turn to alert her. Buttercup noticed the danger right away. A terrible care accident had taken place at the bridge leading out of Townsville, at least five cars were involved. Buttercup thought the town's first responders could handle it, but she flew off to check it out just in case.

Buttercup sighed when she made it on the scene. A car was just about hanging off the edge of the bridge and about to flip off. Typical.

"Hello, I'll just lift you back to sturdy ground." Buttercup told the family inside. They cheered, but Buttercup didn't really care. She just wanted to get the job done.

"Alright, three, two, one!" Buttercup groaned. Wait, groaned? The car was actually heavy! Buttercup was actually struggling to move the car!

"Mommy, is she gonna be able to save us?" Asked the young boy inside the car.

"Of course, it's Buttercup!" His mother responded.

"Uh, maybe all three sisters have to be together for their powers to work?" The father thought out loud.

"Give me a second!" Buttercup announced. She stretched and tried again. After a few seconds of straining, adrenaline kicked in and Buttercup was finally able to lift the car, but she could only fly slowly with the weight. The family didn't seem to notice the girl was struggling and they thanked her profusely as she flew them back into town.

"I'm dropping you off by the fire departments so the EMTs can check you out." Buttercup's voiced strained as she was barely able to put the car down without dropping it.

The family continued to thank her, but Buttercup couldn't hear over her own heavy breathing. Buttercup wondered if she was sick.


	2. Chapter 2

Boomer looked at his "school materials." A barely sharpened pencil lay by an outdated history textbook. Boomer wondered why he even had the pencil, he didn't even have paper to write on! The blonde boy wished his was in real school, with actual teachers and updated textbooks. Maybe if he could get smarter he'd be happier. Boomer flipped through pages he had already read so many times. Maybe this time he'll notice something he didn't the last three times.

"I'm _bored_!" Called a rough voice.

Boomer shrunk into his book, hoping to not be noticed. Of course, it didn't work.

"Why do you have a book when you're too dumb to read?" Asked the rough voice.

"Butch, insults are only funny if they're accurate." Said a smoother voice.

"Hey, Brick, wanna entertain me?" Butch asked.

The boys had all been bored out of their minds since their "father" had become obsessed with defeating the Power puff Girls. Honestly, the boys didn't understand it. They were just teenage girls, why was a middle aged monkey so invested in them? Their father locked himself in his lab a month ago, claiming he'd find the "perfect plan" to beat the girls. Brick tried to find some reasoning behind the monkey's behavior. Boomer wished his father could be happy. Butch didn't care, as long as the plan had room for fun for him.

"I have no reason to dedicate my time to you." Brick answered. Since hitting puberty, Brick's vocabulary had become much better. This was probably due to his being the male version of Blossom, the "smart" Powerpuff girl.

"Then, Boomer, stand up." Butch demanded. Butch seemed to rely on hurting others to keep himself preoccupied. This was probably due to his being the male version of Buttercup, the "aggressive" Powerpuff girl.

Boomer shook on his way up. Boomer didn't have much a backbone, he just wanted to make others, especially his brothers, happy. This was probably due to his being the male version of Bubbles, the "polite" Powerpuff girl.

Butch looked around for a second, looking for a way to turn Boomer into his toy. Butch had actually tormented Boomer so much recently that he was running out of ideas for new torture methods.

Before Butch could dream up an afternoon activity, their father finally busted into the room.

"I have got it! I know how to beat them!" He laughed. "I can finally claim to be able to beat them." He smiled.

Brick and Boomer looked at their father, waiting for the rest of the explanation. Butch tuned everything out, knowing his father had annoying speaking habits.

"I understand the girls are hard to beat. Even with your superior strength, the girls still beat you. I understand that. But I now know how to beat them."

"Okay, Pops, and how do we do that?" Brick asked, hoping to skip a few minutes of useless dialogue.

"I am getting to that. All we have to do is exploit their weaknesses. They have weaknesses that we can exploit."

"But we have easier to exploit weaknesses." Said Boomer.

"That is all right. Because now they have more weaknesses. That is right, they have gained new weaknesses."

"Wait, really? When?" asked Brick.

"It has been happening for the past two years. The girls had been growing weaker since they were sixteen. And we can exploit that. I can make you stronger while they are getting naturally weaker. That is right, it has been this simple and I took this long to notice. I am sorry, but now we can ex-"

"-Exploit their weaknesses, yes, we heard the first few times. So, please explain in, short, sweet sentences how you plan to increase our strength." Brick interrupted.

Of course, their father did not use short or sweet sentences. But after twenty minutes, their father had explained his insanely simple, yet brilliant plan. It really was odd that he hadn't noticed how easy it would be earlier.


	3. Chapter 3

Buttercup walked into the detention room before anyone else was there, even before the teacher. She wanted the extra few minutes to start on the rough draft of her essay. She pulled out her black and green college ruled notebook and opened it to a random page. She checked the next few pages to make sure they were clean. She wasn't the most organized.

Buttercup sighed. She wasn't looking forward to this essay. It was one of the dumb, cop-out essays the teacher gave to just say he gave one. The prompt was "Write about something that makes you unique." Buttercup thought that was unfair. Not every student has something amazing that makes them unique. Many students weren't lucky enough to have discovered a talent or interest, and not everyone had a parent that pushed them to be a unique individual. Buttercup knew her teacher expected her to write about crime-fighting, but she didn't really think it counted. It's not like she _chose_ that hobby, it was expected.

She thought for a second to write about her fashion choices. Buttercup was one of the few girls to wear a suit to prom, and the only one to wear a green one. She knew no one cared, but her choice of men's clothing made her feel special. Of course, no one cared, so she couldn't write about it. Her teacher claimed this essay was about the student, for the student, but Buttercup wasn't dumb. She knew the essay was really about the teacher. It was about entertaining the teacher and getting a good grade in return. She didn't want to write about crime-fighting and her teacher wouldn't want her to write about clothing. She was stumped.

"Glad you could make it, Ms Utonium. Wish you had graced me yesterday afternoon like you were supposed to." Mrs. Jackobs dropped her purse on her desk.

Mrs. Jackobs just _looked_ successful. She always came well-dressed, in a grey skirt-suit that fit her curvy body well. That's right, curvy. She had not been made fun of for being "fat" since her high school days. Her sharp make-up matched her long, black ponytail and her rectangle glasses made her appear sophisticated. Unsurprisingly, the tall woman was very popular with the boys and a few girls around the school.

"I had to save a family from falling to their death." Claimed Buttercup.

"I'm proud of you, but let's not pretend that's why you skipped my secession. You didn't leave to save the family, your saving that family was a coincidence." Mrs. Jackobs saw through Buttercup easily. She was the only counselor at school that could, and that's why she's the only counselor at school that didn't give up on the teenage girl.

"Your detention-mates have three minutes to make it here before I schedule them for two more detentions." The woman looked at her watch. "So, want to tell me why you skipped my session yesterday? I could write you up for that." She threatened.

Buttercup knew she wouldn't. Mrs. Jackobs was far too nice for that.

Buttercup gave Mrs. Jackobs silence for an answer.

Mrs. Jackobs sighed.

"Buttercup, I think you act rebellious because you're irritated that no one sees you for the smart, mature young woman you are. They instead just see you as an aggressive superhero. So you're trying to show off that you can have a bad side, that you aren't just some average superhero. Kind of counterproductive, though, isn't it?"

"I tried taking up hobbies. You know that." Buttercup finally responded.

"You aren't allowed to be on the soccer team. It's not fair. You have super-powers." Mrs. Jackobs said.

"That _statement's_ not fair! I didn't use my powers! And that's not the only hobby I tried."

"Yes, the art club did reject you. I agree, they shouldn't have just kicked you out."

"They think I'm too dumb for art. Just like they think I'm too aggressive for sports." Buttercup crossed her arms.

"Two minutes now." Mrs. Jackobs noted.

"I mean, what if I wanted a career in soccer? They didn't even give me a chance. They thought I just wanted to kick the ball around aimlessly because I'm so 'aggressive.' They didn't even think that maybe I was passionate about the sport, about the rules, the goals, the team, the sportsmanship." Buttercup clenched her jaw.

"Okay. So, let's show them you can be passionate. Pick a new hobby-"

"I _tried_." Buttercup argued.

"Try a different one! Your English teacher claims you have potential in writing. Maybe join the creative writing club? Or the newspaper committee? Maybe don't join a club at all, just spent a few hours a week writing, painting, or even sewing. Maybe even start a sports league for superheroes?" The woman asked.

"They don't take suggestions from people my age. And even if they did, the other heroes are too busy."

"Well, pick a hobby. Practice it. I want proof of it in my office tomorrow. And _you'll_ _be_ _in_ my office tomorrow, I'll find you if you try to run off again."

The other students trickled in a few moments after, all late. But Mrs. Jackobs didn't write them up, she was far too nice for that.

Buttercup and Blossom got ready to leave campus as Bubbles talked about what she planned to paint for the art club. Buttercup felt a slight ping of jealousy.

"I was thinking of painting something positive, something that appealed to children. Like a dog rolling on a field as a little girl followed him."

"Sounds cute, Bubbles." Blossom encouraged.

"Ever think of painting something dark and agonizing? Happiness isn't the only emotion, ya know." Buttercup said.

"There are a high number of former 'emo kids' in the art club that already paint dark and agonizing pieces. Even when the prompt is something happy, like a 'nice evening with your family.'" Blossom frequented the art hall to see Bubbles' work and became familiar with the other students' styles in doing so.

"Maybe some of the students should try to be more balanced and versatile. Maybe not everything should be happy, or be dark." Buttercup stated.

"Speaking of balance, how was your detention? See your counselor?" Blossom asked.

"I have to pick a hobby and show her my first attempt at it tomorrow."

"I love hobbies! I can help." Bubbles squealed excitingly.

"Actually, I don't think you can." Buttercup responded.

Blossom wasn't happy with the answer, but she didn't think Buttercup was wrong. Buttercup preferred to spend her free-time alone.

Suddenly the intercom crackled.

"We need the Powerpuff, excuse me, the Utonium sisters to come to the front office."

Something was wrong. The girls flashed from the room faster than their teacher could give them permission to leave.


End file.
